


end call

by hiyoris_scarf



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: M/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, happy birthday leorio baby i'm sorry this one's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-02-23 06:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23007157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiyoris_scarf/pseuds/hiyoris_scarf
Summary: Barely two minutes passed before the phone rang again. Leorio didn’t even open his eyes when he answered it.“What, did you forget to say: ‘good night sweetie, I love you’?” he said acidly.There was absolute silence on the other end of the line. Leorio’s throat went dry.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight
Comments: 34
Kudos: 251





	end call

Leorio couldn’t sleep.

This wasn’t abnormal. He often had trouble sleeping, but he had hoped—at least on the night of his birthday—that whatever higher power he’d pissed off would give him this much.

The sheets felt like sandpaper, so he kicked them off. His pillow was lumpy, so he tossed it to the ground. The mattress was hot and itchy against his skin, so he sat up, buried his face in his hands, and yelled.

He had thought, maybe, today would be it.

But the clock said 2:41 a.m., and it was the day after his twenty-fourth birthday, and it hadn’t come.

He had seen Gon and Killua today, which was nice. They came for a visit, along with Mito and Alluka. Leorio was so glad to see them he could have cried. As far as birthdays went, it had been one of his best.

 _Isn’t this enough?_ came the gentle, reasonable thought, originating in the shrinking fraction of his brain that still cared about being reasonable.

Leorio was aware of how dysfunctional his desires were. He knew, and he hated himself, and he pitied himself. He also distracted himself with school, and work, and the occasional bad date, and the slightly-more-than-occasional evening of drunken wallowing.

Leorio shook his head in his hands. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough, and that was his own problem.

He would have asked Gon or Killua if either of them had heard from…anyone. But that would have been dismally transparent, and there was no reason for Leorio to burden them with his wretchedness. They were such good kids. They had seen enough already.

He looked at the clock again. 2:58.

“Fuck,” he said.

He was sad, and he was exhausted, and he felt guilty about being so sad and exhausted. His joy at seeing his friends had been genuine, but that on its own couldn’t reach the nasty little wound in him.

Leorio knew what that feeling was called, but he couldn’t let himself even think the word. He wanted to call it despair—but that wasn’t right. Someday, perhaps, he would be smart enough to despair.

But not today. Not yet.

Leorio’s phone rang.

He snatched it off the nightstand like it burned him, smashing the “answer” button before glancing at the caller ID.

_“Leorio!”_

He deflated.

“Zepile. Hi.”

_“Happy birthday, man! Sorry I called so late. Auction ran into the wee hours, you know?”_

“It’s fine. I wasn’t asleep.”

_“Oh?”_

Leorio winced at the bald innuendo in Zepile’s tone.

“You’re not interrupting anything, if _that’s_ what you’re gettin’ at.”

_“Shame. A man should celebrate on his birthday.”_

“I’d settle for some fucking sleep.”

_“Still with the insomnia, huh?”_

Leorio didn’t want to talk about this. Not even with Zepile, who had been a good friend to him when he hadn’t been one in return. Who had witnessed every agonizing stage of his heartbreak and still tried to lift his spirits. Talking to him made Leorio feel even worse, because if he wanted to holler or cry, Zepile would listen. Another person who was unreasonably kind to him. Another friend he didn’t deserve.

“Hey, I’m, uh…”

Leorio cast around for a quick lie.

“I think I’m comin’ down with something.” He coughed twice, unconvincingly.

_“Damn! That’s bad timing.”_

“Yeah,” Leorio agreed, feigning a yawn.

 _“Well…”_ Zepile held his breath, like he was about to ask something. Then he thought better of it.

_“Hope you feel better, man. Get some rest and fight it off.”_

Leorio exhaled, his limbs heavy with relief.

“Hey, thanks for calling,” he mumbled.

_“See ya.”_

Leorio tapped the “end call” button, rolled back onto the bare mattress, and tried to sleep.

Hardly two minutes passed before the phone rang again. Leorio didn’t even open his eyes when he answered it.

“What, did you forget to say: ‘good night sweetie, I love you’?” he said acidly.

There was absolute silence on the other end of the line. Leorio’s throat went dry.

“…Zepile?”

 _“No._ _But now I have questions.”_

Leorio sat up so fast his head spun.

“Kurapika.”

He hated how throaty and desperate his voice sounded. It was goddamn embarrassing.

_“I apologize for calling so late.”_

Kurapika cleared his throat, which he only did when he was hesitant. This was still true about him. Leorio knew this.

“No, no. It’s fine.”

He felt like a madman. He thought he could taste the air on the other side of the phone. He could _see_ the shape of Kurapika’s mouth.

_“I suppose I missed it after all.”_

The world was still rearranging itself, so Leorio said:

“Missed what?”

Then, a second later:

“Oh! Oh, it wasn’t—um—”

He was fucking up everything. He was going to fuck up everything, and Kurapika was going to end the call.

So Leorio did what he always did when he was panicking, and told the truth.

“Yeah,” he blurted out. “You missed it.”

Kurapika made a soft sound, so close to a laugh that Leorio’s chest squeezed painfully tight. That noise was a fist around his heart, because it didn’t sound happy at all.

_“I should have let you sleep.”_

“I wasn’t asleep.”

_“Oh.”_

Kurapika did not ask for clarification, because, Leorio thought, he wouldn’t care anyway. What business of it was his who Leorio took to bed?

“How are you doing?” Leorio asked, forcing a light tone.

_“Let’s not do this.”_

Leorio’s brain flipped the switch from elation to concern. It occurred to him, belatedly, that Kurapika might not be sober.

“Do what?” he asked, guardedly.

_“Waste time.”_

“What do you mean?”

_“Don’t play dumb, Leorio. I know it comes naturally, but it isn’t a good look for you.”_

Kurapika was definitely not sober. He was either drunk or dying. And it pissed Leorio off.

“What the hell are you calling for, then?” he demanded.

The silence lasted for so long Leorio began to think Kurapika had hung up or fallen asleep. His head felt numb.

_“I’m not sure.”_

Leorio snorted bitterly.

“Yeah. That tracks.”

_“I shouldn’t have called.”_

It was humiliating how such a statement could reduce Leorio to frantic desperation. He gripped his phone, white-knuckled, as though that alone could keep Kurapika talking.

“Wait,” he rasped. “Hold on.”

He hung there for a few seconds, waiting for a click. It didn’t come.

“I saw the kids today.”

_“How are they?”_

“They’re fine…good. Great, even.”

A burst of static. Kurapika’s small huff of amusement.

_“Your descriptive capabilities. It’s like I was there.”_

“Shut up.”

_“Gon is well?”_

Leorio’s eyes stung. God dammit. God fucking dammit.

“Yeah.”

_“Good.”_

“Kurapika—”

_“Wait.”_

Leorio dug his knuckles into his eyes, savagely. He waited, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder.

_“Is it fun?”_

“Huh?”

_“Your day with them. Your life now. Do you enjoy it?”_

Leorio knew he was crying, and he knew Kurapika knew.

“Why did you call?” he asked plaintively. “Why now? Where are you?”

_“Leorio.”_

“Why should I tell you anything? What’s the point? You’re not here. You don’t communicate. You could die and no one would tell me. Every day like this. No, I don’t enjoy it, Kurapika. I don’t fucking enjoy it.”

Leorio bit his tongue, horrified and furious at the both of them. It was always like this. Why was it _always_ like this.

 _“You would know if I died,”_ Kurapika said quietly. _“I’ve secured that.”_

“Great,” he spat. “Fucking…super cool. Wonderful. Happy fucking birthday to me.”

_“Please.”_

Kurapika sounded small, scared. He sounded his own age, which, Leorio remembered suddenly, was very, very young. They both were.

_“I’m trying.”_

“I know. That’s what sucks.”

Kurapika inhaled, deep, and a little shuddery. Almost like it hurt.

“Are you okay?”

_“I’m fine.”_

Liar.

“Liar.”

_“I’m in no immediate danger.”_

“Guess that’s all I can ask for.”

Kurapika didn’t respond. Their conversation felt over. Leorio wished he could end it.

_“I need to go.”_

“Yeah.”

_“Get some sleep.”_

“You too.”

He could say all of it before Kurapika hung up. He could give voice to the thing inside him, which wasn’t despair but tasted like it. Leorio opened his mouth. He would do it. This might be the only time he could.

_“Happy birthday, Leorio.”_

The line clicked dead.

Leorio curled down onto the mattress. The clock read 3:11. He clung to the phone: wrapped himself around it like it was his heart.


End file.
